


Adversary

by Dorminchu



Series: Prelude [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Drama, Existentialism, Extended Scene, Female Chara, Gen, Male Frisk, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Neutral Route (Undertale), Psychological Trauma, Self-Denial, Self-Hatred, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorminchu/pseuds/Dorminchu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Flowey's defeat, Frisk meets another child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adversary

In the darkness you open your eyes and Flowey is gone. You stand in the place where you woke up for the very first time, but you feel hard-packed earth beneath you.

You are not alone. Just like King Asgore said, there are six children, six souls. You can't really make any of them out clearly, like shadows on a wall, but they're in the room with you, all standing over your body as you lie there. You feel their presence like a humming in your brain, warm and comforting.

They'll fade away in a moment, because they've been freed, just like you. You wish, selfishly, that they would stay a little while longer.

You sit up and they're already vanishing. You stand and close your eyes. You don't want to watch.

One of them drifts down to stand next to you and you open your eyes. She smiles. She's not even really tangible, just a gray silhouette. You can see her little green soul beating in her frail chest. She passes her hand over your chest, right where your own heart should be and you shiver. You're afraid.

She's smiling, still, but it's a bittersweet smile.

Then she's gone, too. You're alone.

At first.

You hear a noise behind you, footsteps scuffing the earth, and you turn.

There's another girl. She's different from the rest, somehow. Tangible. She's got a long-sleeved sweater, like you. No overalls. Just brown shorts and moccasins. Her clothes look worn.

Her shirt is green and yellow, like a dandelion.

—Buttercups?"

You didn't expect her to speak. You stare. The girl turns to you. She smiles, brushes her hair from her face. Straight-cut bangs that barely pass her forehead, just like yours. She opens her eyes and her irises are unnaturally red.

Your heart stutters in your chest and you catch your breath. You're trembling. Your throat goes tight like you're about to cry but your mouth goes dry and you can't speak.

—That's mine," she says quietly, pointing to your chest. —But I don't need it anymore. Keep it if you wish."

You glance down at the locket at your breast.

—You already know who I am," she says. —Don't you, Frisk?"

You stare at her. Blink a couple times. Then you nod.

She holds out her hand and you hesitate, fearing retaliation. She shakes her head, smiles almost condescendingly.

—No knives this time."

You go to her. You're the same height as she is, and she's a little bigger than you. But you remember.

And to your confusion, she pulls you in by your arm and wraps her own arms around you, tentative but hasty, like she's forgotten how to hold someone. You wait for her to laugh, wait for her to take your rusty knife and stab the cold metal between your ribs. She doesn't do anything.

Instead, she trembles.

You realize, suddenly, that she's frightened. You can't understand why. She's the worst monster of them all. Why is she afraid of you?

…Oh. She's crying into your chest, little quiet hiccupping noises like she's afraid you'll hear. You don't know what to do, so you pat her back. She stiffens like you've hurt her, shoulders hunching like she's about to push you away. But she doesn't. She holds on tighter, and you feel her nails bite your skin through your sweater but you let her hold on.

—I'm sorry," she whimpers, like a mantra, 'til her voice is thick and she can't talk anymore and she buries her face in your sweater and just sobs, quietly.

You remember someone else. You remember consolance, forgiveness. You pat her back.

It's okay, you tell her. We can start over.

She goes rigid, pushes herself away. Her eyes are wide and red and wet and mucus smears from her nostrils.

—No."

You've said the wrong thing, you can tell. Fear wells up in you, irrational and gut-wrenching.

—We are not the same," she insists, voice thick with emotion. She glares at you, puffy-eyed and mistrustful. You don't say anything. Her face contorts into a sneer. —Do you really think I'll bow down like the high and mighty king?"

You shake your head.

Her eyes are wide again, incredulous. She blinks furiously, turns away.

—I hate you," she whispers. —You're as weak as he was."

Flowey?

—Don't talk to me about him!" she snarls. —You didn't know him. You don't deserve to—" Her voice breaks. She stops talking and shivers violently. —But you…you believe in me," she spits out.

You nod, even though you know she can't see. Silence hovers over your heads. She exhales.

—I can't believe it," she says. —You really are that gullible."

She turns towards you and she's smiling, calmly. It doesn't reach her eyes. The fear returns in you, racing faster than your pulse.

—I won't kill you," she says, without bothering to hide her derision. —There's no point. Just go. You've already won."

You want to protest because that's what a hero would do. But you're not a hero. So you don't say anything.

—I gave you your warning," she snaps. —So GO!"

And you leave, even though you tell yourself that you really don't want to.


End file.
